Ripping Butterfly Wings
by Isadora Pierce
Summary: Love. That was the worst. The deeper in you were, the more it would affect you. It'll rip your mind apart into little pieces, it'll burn every little bit of happiness your heart possesses. Especially when the small bit of it you have is being wasted.


_The room was getting hotter by the second as she laid beneath me, her nails digging into my back as I kissed her, too much space in between us. She looked up at me, a small smirk on her gorgeous face as I moaned, realizing who this was. This dream was all too common..._

_I heard rushing water and I looked down. Was I peeing on her or something? I sighed, the heat inside of me growing worse and worse as I tried frantically to destroy the invisible wall between us..._

I shot up in bed, breathing hard as I looked around me for the one girl in this world that I didn't have a chance with. I didn't see her anywhere as I fell backwards into the sheets, my thin t-shirt sticking to me like glue. Always the same dream, the same frustrated feelings as I failed to engage in sexual activities with her. I groaned as a door opened, interrupting my post sex dream thoughts.

Belle came out of the bathroom, the towel around her making me hard almost , that explained the rushing water... I moaned quietly into my pillow, running a hand through my now damp hair. I regretted staying over. I opened one eye cautiously, wondering if she knew I was awake. I looked at her reflection in the mirror, marveling at her huge baby blue eyes, studying her smooth, tan skin. We lived in England, but she'd never been as pale as the rest of our friends.

Her eyes met my gaze in the mirror and she smiled, shaking her head. "Morning Oli." I mumbled something inaudible in response, sitting up and yawning as if I hadn't just had mind blowing sex in a dream. This happened all too often, though I'd never tell a single soul.

"You want?" she asked, pointing back at her bathroom door. I laughed, her words should have had two different meanings. I nodded and stood up, walking over and tousling her short blonde hair as I passed her. The silken strands barely appeared mussed after I pulled my hand away, the soft feeling still lingering in my mind and hand. I smiled; knowing she had no idea what small things like that did for me.

She frowned, sticking her leg out and kicking my shin as hard as she could. I whimpered, though petite, she was strong as a bull.

"You're mean."

"And you're holding up the line for the bathroom," she replied coolly, tightening the towel around her and motioning to the invisible people behind me. I rolled my eyes and slipped through into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me without bothering to lock it. I almost hoped she would walk in in me.

"God," I groaned as I turned on the shower, undressing myself and going past the glass door, my mind filled with images of her. It wasn't fair. I could have any girl in Sheffield, probably in the whole bloody world, but her. It wasn't like she led anyone on, it wasn't like she knew how I fancied her, and it wasn't like we fooled around. We were friends, best friends actually, but as sweet as those two words were to me, they were also a great form of torture. Just friends.

I leaned against the tiled shower wall, working off the stupid ass hard on I'd managed to grow. Usually I would have pleasured this if it had been caused by someone I could actually really sleep with, but this morning it just fucked with my head and frustrated me. After 10 minutes I was good and done, and I continued my shower, smiling as I heard the smooth sound of Belle singing to herself in her room. I bit my lip slowly, trying to fight off yet another hard on as I pictured her naked. I wondered if she'd dropped the towel the second I left the room.

_Damn it, Oliver. She's your best fuckin' friend, and a virgin at that. You can't take it from her, and you never will._

What sorry ass truth. Belle and I weren't anything but friends, and she didn't even realize I had a thing for her. We'd been tight all through middle school and high school, she'd been through everything with me. Except for sex. It wasn't that I just wanted her for that, because there was so much more to Belle than a great body and sweet, pretty little features. She meant the world to me and more, I couldn't make it in life without her, and I most likely wouldn't have made it through middle and high school if she hadn't moved to England in the 6th grade.

Once again I sighed as I leaned onto the wall. Why didn't she know? Why couldn't she see that she was the only girl I'd ever respected enough to keep my dirty mouth to myself, my hands in their pockets, my eyes...well, my eyes did some wandering, but that was beside the point.

It was so depressing, the fact that she couldn't understand. She was the only girl I'd ever met that had only wanted to be friends with me. It irritated the hell out of me, and all of my friends that had to watch my helpless puppy dog eyes every time I looked at her. When we had been younger, I'd been okay with friendship, because I hadn't realized how important we'd become in each other's lives. Now that we were older, I actually wanted a real relationship. But not with 456 million girls. I just wanted one. Just one beautiful, insanely sweet girl. Belle. Who I'd never have, for several reasons, the biggest being family.

Her parents didn't trust me enough to be anything but her friend, and even then that scared them. Her mother had been worse on me than her dad was, amazingly enough. They'd always expected her to come home wasted and tattooed on every visible place, high off her ass and once, they'd seriously suspected her of carrying my baby. She was a virgin.

Her friends didn't like how loose I was with my dick, and of course it was just so obvious how sweet and well-liked she was. They told her the normal cliche shit, like how I was a bad influence, how I'd end up getting someone pregnant, how I partied too much. They hated my band, they hated my friends, who really couldn't have cared less, and they were all betting I'd be in jail twice before the age of 30.

She had so many reasons to hate me, but yet we were closer than any two human beings should be. It was incredibly stupid of her in my eyes a good half of the time, to trust me and care about me so much, but I knew I'd never leave Belle. She was my first priority, she came even before the band, not that she was really aware of that.

I rinsed my hands off, turning the shower off and stepping out. I wrapped a towel around my waist even though I knew she wouldn't try to jump me as soon as I walked out the door.

"Oli?" she called, knocking on the door gently. I opened it and leaned in the doorway, fighting to keep my eyes on her face. She'd dried and straightened her hair, her mouth turned up a small smile as she nodded at her bed room door, signalling she was leaving.

"I'm going to go on into town later, gotta pick up some things. You need anything?" she asked, her voice as smooth and soft as silk. She was American, her family had moved here when we were both just fresh out of elementary school, and she'd seemed to have picked up a slight British accent. I thought it was cute, but she'd always had to hide it around her parents, who liked to call it illiterate, and for some reason, hoodlum speak. It made no sense to me or anyone I repeated it to.

I shook my head at her, looking around the room for my phone. The only reason I'd been here over night was because Tom had kicked me out, on account of I'd fooled around with his girlfriend three weeks ago. I felt bad, but it wasn't likely that they were going to make it anyway, she'd cheated on every guy she'd shown any interest in, Tom knew that.

"You sure?" Belle said as she picked up her light green purse, slowly backing out of the door way. I sighed and nodded, sinking down on the bed as I reached under it, pulling out a bag full of my clothes that I kept over here for nights such as the one before. Fuck you very much, Tom. Some brother.

"Well, I'll be back around ah..maybe one, yeah? I'll bring back lunch. You're better off going and talking to Tom, love." Belle smiled at me, walking over and playfully tousling my hair as I'd done to hers. I sighed quietly, wishing her hands were somewhere else, but managing a small grunt as I gently shoved her hand away from my mop of hair.

"Don't want to talk to him."

"Too bad. Do it for me, a'right? I'll see you later." I watched as she left, mumbling quietly to myself about sex, brothers, and girlfriends. Right now I needed the first one, hated the second one, and couldn't keep the third one for the life of me. Any girl I'd dated since middle school just got jealous because I hung around my friends and Belle way too much, which started the whole cheating thing. I seriously just couldn't be committed.

I pulled out a strange pinkish shirt from my overnight bag, laughing when I realized it was the one Belle had gotten me one night when she was drunk and loaded with her dad's credit cards. I smiled to myself, we always had more fun together than two people our age should have. I decided to wear it anyway, yanking on black jeans and Vans, not even bothering to do shit to my hair.

I left her house with only one thing on my mind: getting laid, and quick.


End file.
